My Thane, Right or Wrong
by Killjoy Whatsername
Summary: Seventeen years had passed since the Dragon Crisis and Civil War of the Fourth Era. A descendant of the Dovahkiin works as a housecarl and must face the pressures of serving her thane, whose morals conflict with hers. Meanwhile, Aventus Aretino strives to reach his goal of restoring the Dark Brotherhood to its former glory.


The same way it did everyday, the freezing wind mildly blew over the shores of Windhelm. The waves in the sea moved just as lightly, barely shaking the small boats docked nearby the wooden ships. On this lazy day, the crew members just stood around in their respective vessels, watching the uneventful day go by. A pair of city guards did the same, leaning against the grand wall with their arms crossed, and ready for the action which was unlikely to come. One of them, myself, attempted to converse with the other guard out of boredom.

"My sister's out adventuring," I sighed, "And what do I get? Guard duty."

My fellow guard, Greiri, didn't respond, but I detected her eyes roll under the shade of her helmet. It was no secret to the rest of the Eastmarch guards that I hated my job as much as I loved it. I often found myself wondering why I chose to work as a guard in Windhelm, of all places. Despite how the Civil War was resolved about seventeen years ago, some Nords in the city had barely changed their attitudes. Some citizens still gave me a hard time for being the daughter of an Imperial Legate, regardless the fact that I was half Nord. As far as I knew, it seemed that they hated me even more for being a mixture of Imperial and Nordic heritage. Aside from the people, the weather in the city was also worth resenting. It was always cold, everything was covered in snow, and the isolating walls made it appear worse than Winterhold. I honestly had no idea why I had decided to stay in this city. Probably, it was because I've never bothered to change anything in my life.

Throughout the years, I was given many opportunities for glory and fortune, but I had declined all of them, choosing the mundane lifestyle. I just thought being a city guard suited me better than running a farm or a business. After all, my love of combat ran in the family, and I wanted a job that brought justice to Skyrim and her people.

Eventually, Greiri got bored of standing around and responded.

"I thought you didn't like adventure?" she asked.

"It's not that I don't like it," I told her, "Adventure just isn't made for me."

"You could have been a member of the Companions. With combat skills like yours, you can easily survive exploring ancient ruins and claim treasures. Honestly, Tavi, I've never met anyone who has passed up as many opportunities as you have."

"I suppose you can't really understand how it's like for me, since even I don't understand it myself," I said, "So before you became a city guard, what did you do?"

"You see," she took a step away from the wall and directly faced me, "I used to be an adventurer,"

"Do not get started on that, Greiri," I warned. I was getting tired of her arrow in the knee jokes. Apparently, it was popular among the guards of Skyrim years ago. Greiri had heard it from the older guards in the hold and thought it was appropriate to spout out old jokes every other minute.

"And then I took an arrow in the— ow!" I elbowed her on the left arm, unprotected by her armor. There was a bruise right where I hit her.

"Tavi! We're supposed to attack threats to the city, not each other," Greiri whined.

"If you want to keep your job as a guard, you better be able to handle more than a couple of painless blows,"

"It hurt, but I'm no milk-drinker. True Nords never back down from the pain," she boasted.

"That explains why Tavi's only half as good of a warrior than you and I, eh Greiri?" teased another guard who seemed to have suddenly appeared in front of us.

"He's just jealous of you, Tavi," Greiri told me.

"Jealous? Everyone knows I'm the best guard in Eastmarch. All the other guards wish they had my strength, and all the women love me," the other guard said jokingly as he put his hand on my shoulder.

I pounded on his gloved fingers with my fist, making him withdraw his hand. Greiri laughed "Not _all_ the women."

"Shouldn't you be patrolling the gate, Aenar?" I asked him with an exasperated tone.

"Showing affection with violence, Tavi?" he teased me again.

"Listen, if you came here to lollygag, then you should probably—"

"Actually," he cut me off, "Jarl Brunwulf sent me to come after you. You need to report to the Palace as soon as possible."

"You should have said so earlier! Aenar, you need to learn how to get straight to business," I said in a strict tone before dashing into the walled city, on my way to the Palace of the Kings.

The Jarl needed me, and Aenar decided to fool around rather than reporting urgent news. Typical of him. Unfortunately for me, as one of the younger members of the Eastmarch guard, I was stuck with Greiri and Aenar as my friends. It would be nice to get along with other guards who actually took their jobs seriously. Then again, most guards would occasionally interact with passers-by, telling them the same jokes over and over again. After all, work was quite tedious, even with the action we get when ordered to deal with the usual outlaws.

As I approached the grand, wooden doors that stood between the frost covered, stone walls of the palace, I removed my helmet and received a few peculiar stares from a couple of guards. The freezing wind blew my long hair into my face, so there was a messy black mop tangled with snow on my head as I entered the massive hall. It suddenly felt much warmer to be out of the biting cold, with a fire crackling nearby. I proceeded to greet the Jarl, who sat on his throne.

"Honor to you, my Jarl," I bowed.

"Greetings, Octavia. Now, you don't have to be so formal with me," the Jarl said. There was kindness in his voice, but through his eyes, I saw the many battles he had fought. Jarl Brunwulf preferred being a soldier over being a jarl. He was a wise man, visible through his age and perspective on war. He was also a friend of my mother, the war hero who quelled the Stormcloak rebellion and the soldier who was part of the reason why Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter held his position as the jarl of Eastmarch.

I gave him a quick smile, which instantly vanished. "Aenar told me to report as soon as possible."

"And you came at the perfect time," the Jarl told me, "Octavia, I am appointing you to be the housecarl of the new Thane of Eastmarch."

Upon hearing his words, my knees shook, but it wasn't from the cold. I knew in advanced that I was going to be appointed as a housecarl, but I wasn't informed that it was going to be this soon. I prayed to the Eight Divines that I wouldn't forget the things I've learned during my training sessions, but at that moment, I couldn't even recall half of what housecarls were supposed to do.

"I am honored to be chosen, my Jarl," I managed to choke out. Each word I've spoken to the Jarl was sincere. Being a housecarl required impeccable combat skills, great courage, and most importantly, undying loyalty. I truly believed it was an honor.

"So when does the job begin?" my tongue slipped and I immediately covered my mouth in embarrassment. Forget having butterflies in my stomach; it felt like there was a dragon in there, instead! Thankfully, the Jarl didn't seem to mind my disrespect, or notice how nervous I was. Perhaps he did notice that I was nervous, but didn't say a word about it.

"Right now," he replied as he gestured for somebody to come closer. Responding to the Jarl's silent command, a man stepped into the dim light of the fire, though part of his figure was still cloaked in shadow. "This is your Thane, Aventus Aretino," Jarl Brunwulf continued. The new Thane was a bit taller than I was, with dark hair and dark eyes against his relatively pale skin. I had expected to see him dressed either in armor, enchanted robes, or fine clothing fit for nobility. But surprisingly, he wore normal clothes, a green shirt with brown trousers, and light leather boots. Unlike most Nords, he had no beard, but just a hint of a goatee. In fact, he didn't look like a Nord, but more like an Imperial.

My Thane, Aventus, smirked upon the sight of my presence, while the partial darkness of the hall made him appear sinister.

"Aventus, I am placing Octavia at your service as your housecarl," the Jarl told him.

I searched my memory for some dialogue I was taught over my training. The first line I could think of was "I am your sword and your shield," which I delivered to my Thane with a bow.

"Right," he said, shifting uncomfortably, probably unsettled by having his own servant. He didn't seem to be nobility at first sight, after all. "Well, follow me, I guess," he continued.

"Yes, my Thane," I firmly obeyed.

Aventus, led me out of the palace and I followed him to his home. The first thing I saw upon entering was the staircase which led to a small room. Layers of assorted books, weapons, and armor were piled on top of his furniture and spread out on the floor.

Aventus immediately began to dig in his pile of armor, saying "Remind me to sell this stuff sometime, uhh...What's your name again?"

"Octavia Vendicci, at your service, my Thane," I replied, hiding any expression of how offended I was, since he forgot my name in a matter of a few minutes.

A smirk creeped onto his face again as he hauled a set of steel armor onto a nearby chair. "Octavia, do you prefer heavy or light armor? Personally, I'd like you to wear something light for our stealth missions, but feel free to choose for now."

"Whatever you wish, my Thane."

He shrugged his shoulders, then tilted the chair over, dropping the heavy armor on a heap of metal apparel. It made a loud clanking noise, but he didn't seem to care. He swept aside a couple of swords and a dwarven helmet with his foot, and fished out a Scaled cuirass with a pair of matching gauntlets.

"Put these on," he shoved them into my arms, "I can't have you following me wearing a guard's uniform."

"Right now, my Thane?"

His eyes widened for a second while his face flashed red. "I meant you can go change in the other room!" he added quickly.

I pretended not to notice and obeyed his command. The adjacent room was even smaller. The light was dimmer and the air smelled of nightshade. As fast as I could, I shed my old armor and put on the set given by my Thane, who I assumed was an adventurer. It was the most logical explanation for his hoard of treasures. I stepped back into his hoard room and I was greeted by a sword getting shoved into my grasp.

"Take this. It's Skyforge steel. That should be enough to defend me, right?" Aventus smirked again.

That made me a bit suspicious on how he acquired the sword. I have never seen his face around Jorrvaskr, and the heap of weapons lying around in his home eliminated the likelihood of Aventus having made an honest purchase for it.

I disregarded my thoughts and formally replied with another "Yes, my Thane," which made him shift uncomfortably again.

"One more thing, Octavia," he pointed out.

I looked at him attentively.

"You're sworn to obey my _every_ command, right?"

"Yes, my Thane," I affirmed, then I realized how some housecarls had opposing morals with their masters. I could never be sure if Aventus and I would end up the same way. "But I have limits, my Thane," I added.

"I see. Then, do me a favor and cut the formalities."

"I'm afraid that would be disrespecting you, my Thane."

Aventus laughed. "Talking back would count as disrespecting me, housecarl," he kicked a small pile of weapons toward the wall. "At least stop saying 'my Thane' after every sentence. That's an order, my _housecarl_," I detected his snarky emphasis on the word "housecarl."

He sat down on the chair and reached for something on the shelf behind him, knocking two goblets onto the floor before finally landing his grasp on a bottle of ale. In the middle of trying to open the bottle, he paused, eyed me, and said "By the way, what does a housecarl do?"

"As my Thane, I am sworn to protect you and all you own with my life," I replied with the formal response I had learned in my training.

Aventus put the bottle down and sighed.

"One day, Octavia. Promise me that one day, you will loosen up and quit all this 'Yes, my Thane' stuff," he almost jokingly told me as he stood up and tried to sort his weapons pile.

"Yes, my Thane," I had no other way to reply.

"I guess it won't be today, though," he shrugged, dropping an iron mace on a nearby table, giving up on his current task.

I couldn't help but smile at him.

"See, I know there's a happy person under that uptight mask," now he was forcing bottles of health potions into a bag. "I thought it was going to take forever to get you to smile," he told me as he tried to fit a sweetroll into the same bag. He managed to seal it shut, despite how there had to be at least five weapons and twenty bottles of potions in there.

Aventus dragged the heavy pack off the table as I reached out my hand, offering help. He hung its strap on my outstretched hand, which pulled my arm down with the sudden weight.  
"Alright, I'm all ready," he said, "You're carrying this pack."

Instinctively, I carried the supplies on my back and responded with a sarcastic "I am sworn to carry your burdens," as I rolled my eyes.

My Thane glanced at me and said "So you do have a snarky side, eh?"

I quietly gasped and instantly apologized. "I'm sorry, my Thane! It's just that my mother's housecarl always said it that way whenever she asked her to carry something, and—"

Aventus grabbed a sweetroll from the table and shoved it in my mouth.

"Hey. I never said that's a bad thing," he said, trying to hold back laughter. "It makes you less boring, so keep it up," he told me without keeping his eyes off his neatly arranged line of daggers on the table. He took a glass dagger, sheathed it in his belt, and headed towards the door.

"Let's go," he called me.

I quickly tried to chew and swallow the sweetroll before I asked "Where are we going, my Thane?"

"Where else?" Aventus flashed one more smirk at me, "We're going on an adventure."


End file.
